


The Spelling Lesson

by pqlaertes



Category: due South
Genre: Acrostic, Fluff, M/M, Romance, character writing poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 04:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pqlaertes/pseuds/pqlaertes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny tries to help Ray with his spelling, but ends up learning something himself</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spelling Lesson

"What do you have there Ray?"

Ray Vecchio, bent intently over his desk, jumped a little in his chair. "Nothing." He smiled blandly up at Fraser and quickly stuck the scrap of paper he'd been scribbling on into the middle of a pile of files. The pile swayed unsteadily, lurched, and then stabilized. "What's up?"

Fraser shrugged, this sort of thing was so embarrassing. "Ah, well, I was wondering . . . Diefenbaker seems to have misplaced his rabbit." The white wolf hurried around from behind Fraser's legs and looked up at Ray with unabashed pleading in his eyes, fairly groveling on the floor. "And he believes he may have left it here."

Ray grinned down at the wolf. "Don't worry, big guy; Elaine found it in the broom closet." He dug the stuffed rabbit out of a desk drawer.

Dief jumped up and took the rabbit delicately in his jaws. With a doggy wink at Ray, he carried his treasure off behind the file cabinet. "You sure got him spoiled, Fraser."

Fraser sighed again. "As I remember, it was you who bought it for him."

"He was whining."

"He's becoming a big baby." Fraser sat down in the chair beside Ray's desk. "It's the effect of the city." He leaned far over, out of his chair, so that the wolf would be sure to be able to read his lips. "He seems to go out of his way to put me into embarrassing situations for his own enjoyment."

Ray grinned, practically laughing at him. "Yeah, wonder who that reminds me of."

Fraser straightened and looked over Ray's cluttered desk. His eyes caught the tail end of the scrap of paper where it stuck out of the files. "'So if I parish by fire tonight, it will be . . .'"

"Hey! That's none of your business." Ray pulled the stack away from him and files cascaded over the desk, burying the rest of Ray's work.

"I'm sorry Ray. I thought it was part of a case."

"Well -- maybe it is, but that doesn't mean you need to read it. Sheesh!"

"Don't be so touchy, Ray. It's wrong anyway."

Ray's head snapped back, gone suddenly from offense to defense. "Whaddaya _mean_ it's wrong?"

"Well, 'perish' with an 'e' means to die. 'Parish' with an 'a' means a church community. Judging from the context, I would assume --"

"You're criticizing my spelling now?"

"It's a simple matter of meaning, Ray. If you'd 'parished' I suppose you'd end up 'dioceased'." And he couldn't help chuckling about that.

Diefenbaker fixed him with a leery eye and cuddled his rabbit between his paws.

Ray just watched him, nodding slightly as the laughter passed. "You about done there, Fraser?"

"I'm sorry, Ray." Another burst of giggles came and went.

Ray pulled the paper out of the pile, crumpled it in his palm, and tossed it at the overflowing trashcan. It hit at a fantastic angle and wadded papers and candy bar wrappers exploded from the top of the can. Ray had already picked up his coat and walked away. "C'mon, Dief. I'll buy you a sandwich."

Fraser sat there, not sure whether the invitation included him. He suspected not. The man was so moody sometimes.

The mess on the floor finally drove him to action. He compacted the trash already in the can and then put the scattered waste back in, in a more stable configuration. Strangely enough, there was one piece that just wouldn't stay put.

Finally, swallowing, perfectly aware that he was blushing, he unfolded it.

 

_being where I am, its  
easy to see the flow of you the yes and   
no of you, the   
times I've said to you stop it, stop it, I   
only really meant, stop now or   
never stop, I don't think I can stand it if this isn't   
forever. Theres something more than fear that makes my heart   
race and my hands sweat when you   
ask me to come out into the wild with you.   
So if I parish by fire tonight, it will be _

 

 

It ended there, but there were dozens of crossed-out words around the margins, and where the next line should have been was evidence of several erasings.

"You just about done there, Benny, or you want to teach me to use semicolons now?"

When Fraser looked up, Ray was standing at the corner of the desk. He nodded that slow, patient nod again.

Fraser stood, a little unsteadily. His face was burning, and something in his belly twisted, threatened to betray him completely.

"I'm sorry, Ray."

Those grey-green eyes looked right through him. "You want me to drive you guys home?"

"Ah -- yes." He reached out and placed the crumpled paper on Ray's desk.

Ray shrugged and turned his back. "Keep it."

Fraser folded the paper carefully into his pocket and followed Ray out the door. Diefenbaker was refusing to look at him. He couldn't think of anything reasonable to say. "It's 'it's' actually, not 'its', with the --"

"It's what?" Ray growled, not looking back.

"It's wonderful, Ray." And his stomach twisted once more as he reached forward to put his palm to Ray's hand. His fingers curved around Ray's and their hands slipped for a moment into warm and perfect contact, and then back out again.

 

_easy and natural. Like the way the tide  
rises. _

 

_===_

__1996_ _

__for James  
_ _


End file.
